Charged by Dialogue
by Secret LaBlack
Summary: THE DARK KNIGHT RISES Dr Jonathan Crane finds himself charged by his creation, his ally of all people. He tries to avert this madness but after all, he himself did never authorize any plea or investigation of the penalty. It is the beginning of an excruciating dispute full of fear, anger and hysteria as Jonathan faces his charge. - One Shot - Scarecrow/Crane


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters and the settings used and I am not making any profit with the following lines. It is written for fun and out of pure joy only.

**A/N:** One Shot. Been listening to Eminem's _Talkin' 2 Myself_ too much, I assume.

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**Charged by Dialogue**

„Jonathan. _Jonathan_, wake up."

A familiar voice roused Dr Jonathan Crane from his sleep – not rudely but still unpleasantly so. But instead of showing any reaction, Jonathan Crane kept his eyes shut while he was marveling at the fact that the old blankets he was using as bedsheets were obviously missing.

"Open your eyes now!" the cold, raw voice snarled angrily, "I _know_ you're awake."

Eventually, Jonathan Crane opened his eyes, which widened in horror immediately. He was sitting on the old worn leather-clad chair that usually served those whose fate Jonathan was holding in his hands when he judged them. Across from him, on the disheveled pulpit, Scarecrow sat enthroned in utter chaos, holding the judge's gavel in one hand and considering it thoughtfully. Scarecrow's face was a terrifying sight and did not have anything in common any longer with the mask Jonathan had once worn. He felt as if he had tasted his own medicine like Batman had once forced him to. Jonathan was overcome by a sudden feeling of nausea.

"I already thought you'd never awake," Scarecrow growled.

"What is this all about?" Jonathan replied in an alarmed voice without responding to Scarecrow's remark. At the same time, he was glancing about the Gotham Courthouse and realized he was sitting here in the middle of the night. For a split second he was wondering how he had gotten here in the first place, but he could not contemplate any possible answers as Scarecrow's ugly grimace began to speak.

"I've been thinking... and I found you _guilty_," Scarecrow answered with a threatening undertone.

"You found _me_ – _guilty_?" Jonathan repeated incredulously. His eyes were wide again and his hands were gripping the chair's arm rests convulsively. "But – what do you charge me for?"

"Treason."

"_Treason_? You call me a traitor? I can't believe this," Jonathan exclaimed indignantly, "who or what am I said to have betrayed? Gotham? This filthy hole of a city is rotting on its own!"

Scarecrow burst out laughing dryly. "You know that the answer doesn't matter since we're not here to _discuss_," he said with a touch of joy, "or do I have to remind you of how you're usually doing your work up here?" The following dirty laughter was echoing brightly, crazily in the quiet building.

Jonathan opened his mouth to reply something appropriate but the mere sight of Scarecrow seemed to paralyze him and take his breath away, leaving him unable to utter one single syllable. His mouth closed again and a thin layer of sweat was forming on his brow. His fingers were gripping the arm rests even tighter, leaving bloody marks on the surface, but Jonathan did not feel the pain since fear had numbed him.

"I assume you choose death?" Scarecrow asked almost lovingly.

Jonathan was finally able to speak again even though the same destructive mayhem that had befallen the streets of Gotham City seemed to rule his mind. "I do _not_ choose anything," he said slowly, trying to keep his voice composed. "If you want to kill me, you'll send me into exile. We're doing this all the time, remember? And it was _your_ idea, Scarecrow – wasn't it?"

"Of course! Death by exile, as always!" Scarecrow declared, raising the judge's gavel to confirm the sentence. But then he stopped himself and put the gavel down.

Jonathan looked at Scarecrow questioningly and the immediate relief became visible on his face. Maybe it was still possible to avert this madness and reverse it completely. For Scarecrow turning against him, against his creator, his ally, his _friend_ – that was impossible.

"Who did I betray, Scarecrow?" Jonathan asked quietly.

"You betrayed _me_! And, even more so, _yourself_! Degenerated from Head of Arkham Asylum with all your power and your allies to Bane's lickspittle – only because of _Batman_? Do you really believe Bane will spare you solely because you keep executing his orders diligently? Bane will burn Gotham to the ground and you will sink into its ashes as if you've never existed! But instead of revolting against it and returning to being the smart Dr Crane who _knows_ how to _take care_ of people, you bow down to Bane day after day, even _enjoying_ it!

"_Batman_'s got _nothing_ to do with it!" Jonathan cried furiously, "Bane is wiping Gotham out and I assist him! Why should he leave me behind?"

"'Cause you're nothing but a filthy maggot to him and worthless on top of that," Scarecrow growled. "But you're still here, day in, day out, grinning all the time and getting excited about your own sadistic judgments instead of letting people feel the true meaning of _fear _again. Bane may be able to intimidate them with his weapons somehow, but _you and I_ can scare the _living hell_ out of them and drive them all crazy. Long enough I've been watching you doing nothing, Jonathan, and I'm fed up with it. I'm wasting my time – _you _are wasting my time."

"And thus you want to kill me. Do you consider this wise, Scarecrow?" Jonathan's voice was trembling harder than even but he was staring firmly at the man with the disgusting _face_.

"I have to get rid of you first in order to deal with Bane and seize Gotham!"

"Without me you're _nothing_," Jonathan hissed.

Scarecrow laughed hysterically, "Without you I'm _free_!" His face turned into a nasty grin and he added brightly, "You choose your own death and you know where it expects you, _Crane_!"

Without waiting for an answer, Scarecrow hammered the judge's gavel down. "Death – _by exile_!" he exclaimed with a thundering voice which resonated with a painfully callous sound. Then he descended the pulpit and grabbed Jonathan by the arm.

"You'll regret this, _Scarecrow_!" Jonathan cried as tears were streaming down his cheeks. He could not resist though when his opponent – the traitor, for _he_ was the traitor, wasn't he? – dragged him outside.

Outside the gates, Scarecrow thrust Jonathan onto the layers of ice which were covered in bright snow. The impact hit Jonathan hard but while he was still crying, he burst into heavy fits of laughter which almost took his breath away. He picked himself up, crying and laughing at the same time, and glanced back to Scarecrow.

"So that's it?" Jonathan croaked, "Does it end like _this_ now? Have you forgotten how much you owe me?"

"I don't owe you shit! You're weak and you're timid and only madness drives you. You deserve to die if you're not even capable of putting that scum Bane away. And now – _get out of my sight_!"

Jonathan turned his back on Scarecrow, the traitor, laughing one last time, and started his march across the perishing ice on the river. He did not care about his steps and that the ice might break but kept trudging on through the cold winter's night as if he were wandering on solid ground. Jonathan was no longer afraid but welcomed the dark, icy cold with open arms and a smirk that kept mocking Scarecrow's charges until the end.

As darkness embraced him, Jonathan felt somehow _peaceful _for the first time in years. It did not last long though for someone was shaking him by the shoulder and forcing him back into reality.

"Crane! Stop dreamin'! We've got work for ya!"

Dr Jonathan Crane looked up into the face of one of Bane's henchmen whose gaze told him his short break was over. He got up and entered the Gotham Courthouse. A tiny and delicate smile was playing on his lips, as he ascended the pulpit and regarded the accused in front of him.


End file.
